


but it never gets different

by faespresso



Series: song drabbles [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguity, Ambiguous Age, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 16:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14169126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faespresso/pseuds/faespresso
Summary: He must have known this was coming.





	but it never gets different

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because it is kind of a way to channel some of my thoughts and feelings as of late. Plus, I really enjoy writing Ozpin, and I looooove writing contemplating/broody pieces. 
> 
> Title is based on President Heartbeat by Everything Everything. Give it a listen, it's one of my faves.

When Ozpin looks into the mirror, he sees a shell-- bags under his eyes, amber eyes that seem to stare into nothingness and never quite seem to match his smile, never seem quite  _ there _ .

They call that gaze the thousand yard stare, and it is a haunted look of soldiers that come home from war-- utterly changed. But he has never seen war in the flesh, never walked amongst gunfire and mortar shells raining down as if they were snow, so why does he have such a stare? Why do his shoulders feel so heavy as if he were Atlas carrying the sky? 

Is that why people have looked at him with some sort of pity in their eyes? Or the way their faces contort into a sneer when words leave his mouth? 

He tells himself that he is imagining things, that others do not see him as helpless and needing of their pity, or some thoughtless child who has screamed just a little too loud. But then again, he cannot remember a time where it wasn’t this way: his hollow gaze with a weight on his shoulders, his hands always looking for something to do, his body utterly restless and ready to run or to fight-- he can never tell. Again he wonders, what use is the restlessness to him? He was no soldier, who has to move quickly, lest he be blown up. It has done nothing for him, only for him to make decisions he’ll soon be haunted by.

The professor heaves a sigh as he sees his reflection in the mirror. 

“This will truly be another long night, old friend.” 

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think? I'm considering making this a part of a series of drabbles based on songs (probably mostly of Everything Everything) but if you have a request I'd be more than happy to hear it!


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